


Can't See the Forest

by Kestrel337



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, No Beta, mollstrade advent calendar, quick fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5490839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrel337/pseuds/Kestrel337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg has to work on their first official Christmas together, but with a bit of ingenuity and help from some friends, they can still have a celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't See the Forest

Some months after declaring themselves ‘serious’, he had to tell Molly that he’d be working Christmas. It was an almost physical relief when she’d said she understood that the co-workers who had children obviously had to be given priority. She’d take an on-call shift that day, maybe watch a movie. His demonstration of gratitude had been enjoyable for both of them, and they’d agreed to have a celebration at some point in the new year. It was settled, or so he thought.

Sally was having none of it. “You’ve worked the last five Christmases. You’ve just moved in with a wonderful woman. Take the time off and have done.”

“Molly’s fine with this, Sal.” 

Sally raised an eyebrow. “Is that what she wanted to say or what you wanted to hear?” 

He thought back on the conversation as they drove toward the prison; he’d never been so eager to begin an interview. That the woman who’d reported her sister missing had long brown hair had no bearing on his dogged pursuit of answers. Long brown hair and eyes dark with the unlikelihood of a happy ending. 

They left with no more information than they’d had going in. Genevieve Carlson was going to spend Christmas without her only remaining family. Alone at Christmas...shit.

“I really messed up, didn’t I?” 

“Molly’s a forgiving sort; you’ll make it up to her.”

“You could at least have _pretended_ I was talking about work.”

She bared her teeth in a mocking grin. “Nah. You know how to do your job. It’s relationships you’re rubbish at. Lucky for you, I’ve got an idea.” 

 

~*~

 

“What do you mean, you’re not celebrating? Molls, that’s not right. It’s Christmas!” 

Molly forked pasta into her mouth, ignoring the rubbery re-heated texture and too-acidic tomato sauce. Not ordinarily the sort of thing she’d eat for lunch, but it was what was available and she was hungry. “No, it’s okay. Really. He’s a cop. I knew that going in.” 

“Yeah, okay. And I see how happy you are, usually anyway, and he’s a decent guy. Dead sexy, too. But even the doctors who have to work, they put up trees and stuff. Do something, anyway.” Jennifer pushed away her own plate. “This is awful. The crisps in my locker are fresher than this.” 

Molly sighed, and set aside her own meal. “It really is. I’ve got some chocolate in mine; want to share?” 

“If you don’t mind my giving you a bit of advice.”

Jen’s ‘advice’ was a convoluted discourse that compared Molly’s current plan to eating the cafeteria food and her own idea to their shared junk food repast. The metaphor broke down under close examination, but that didn’t mean Jennifer didn’t have a point. Maybe Molly could throw together some sort of Christmas. What it would lack in tradition might be made up in a bit of stolen togetherness.

 

~*~

 

The twenty-second of December was his last day completely off. He pretended to be sleeping when Molly got up and prepared for work, accepted her farewell kiss and a reminder to feed Toby, and hopped out of bed as soon as he heard the key turn in the lock. She was only working a half-shift today, and there was a lot to get done. 

At nine, he answered the doorbell. The two men outside wore matching jackets; they’d set several cardboard boxes on the floor, next to an evergreen wrapped in white plastic netting. The taller one offered up his ID. 

“North Pole tree delivery. You Greg Lestrade?” 

“Yes, that’s me. Come on through.” 

George, as he identified himself, checked off the items as they were carried in. “Nordmann Fir, green barrel stand, Jolly Holiday Decoration Bundle, and four sets of warm gold LED lights. Where you want the tree to go?” 

They put it in a corner of the sitting room, filled the stand with ten liters of warm water, and asked him to sign off that he’d received care instructions. Then they were off, and he was left with two hours to decorate. 

~*~

 

Half a day of paperwork left Molly caught up and mentally weary. She was more than ready for an afternoon with Greg, coffee, and the surprise Jennifer had helped her plan. A tube delay was really the very last thing she needed, so, of course, that’s what she got. A glance at her phone as she dashed up the stairs showed that she still might make it home in time if she skipped the coffee shop. But it wasn’t to be. As soon as she came around the corner, she saw the courier’s truck parked out front of the building. She broke into a run, hoping to catch them before they broke the surprise to Greg. But the entry was empty, the lift descending from their floor. Sure enough, as she came down the hallway she saw Greg rubbing the back of his neck and conversing with the delivery team.

“Here, I’m here. I’ll sign for it. Greg, sorry, I meant to be home before they got here.” She took the paperwork from the red-haired delivery woman and let her go over the form.

“Right, Miss Hooper. We’ve got your slim-line blue spruce pre-lit permanent tree, three stockings, and the Silver Bells deluxe bauble package. That’s an upgrade, no charge because the Peacocks and Plums was sold out. Sign here, please.”

Greg watched silently as Molly handed off the form and waved the delivery folks into the flat. “I think we’ll put it in the corner of the…oh. Oh my goodness.” She stopped dead at the edge of the festively decorated sitting room.

Molly stared at Greg’s tree. Greg stared at the box containing Molly’s tree. The delivery team stared at Molly and Greg. There was a moment of fragile silence. Greg coughed, trying to hold back laughter, and Molly covered her mouth with one hand. They held it together until their eyes met and the absurdity of the situation became too much. Molly snickered. Greg snorted. Soon they were nearly hysterical, Greg doubled over with tears streaming from his eyes and Molly whooping for breath in between wild giggles. The drivers warily sidled out of the sitting room and made their escape. 

“Well. This is a surprise,” Molly managed before collapsing, panting, onto the sofa. Her face was flushed, her eyes sparkling. 

“This...isn’t quite what I had in mind for our first Christmas together. Aren’t we a pair.” Greg sat next to her on the sofa and pressed a kiss to her small fingers. “God, Molls. I haven’t laughed so hard in...ever, I don’t think.” 

“Worth it, then, to see you laugh. I love you, Greg. So much.” 

“I love you, too. Happy Christmas, Molly.”

**Author's Note:**

> I found myself wondering how Christmas trees get home in a place like London. Probably other big cities, too, where not having a car is somewhat more practical than where I'm from. 
> 
> Christmas Tree Delivery...it's a thing.


End file.
